


it's not your birthday, so what's with the suit?

by HolyGuacomole



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, fuckin' spring break, whereas the hawkeyes rely on the healing powers of sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5686204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyGuacomole/pseuds/HolyGuacomole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not your birthday, so what's with the suit?

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble written for a friend originally posted on my [blog](http://allisonsghost.tumblr.com/), so feel free to drop by and send me a prompt.

Clint has had a hard day. Harder than most given the time of the year.

Fuckin’ Spring Break.

The Avenger slammed the door and shucked off his ragged shirt, scabs breaking from blood congealed over the torn cloth. 

Dammit. 

That was the third civilian shirt this month. Maybe he could meet up with Nat next week when she finished her mission in Peru?

Lucky trotted after him to the bathroom, gently nosing his scratched legs and licking at his fingers. Some calm settled in Clint the moment he closed the bathroom door, cutting out the smell from over-heated cars and sweaty business men reaching him from the street (he should close that window after cleaning up), and Lucky curled up in the tub. 

Clint carefully disinfected the deeper wounds ( _motherfuckinstingslikea_ -) and than washed his face with a warm washcloth, choosing to shower after, maybe, a 10 hour nap. 

After one final look in the mirror, the hero shucked off his pants and walked down the hallway to his room, not even bothering to close his living room window when the promise of sleep lay just 8 feet away.

His sun-warm sheets; those limp pillows; snoring Kate; the thick fleece blanket-

“Kate?”

Lucky barked happily, startling them both.

“Clint?” She murmured through the hair sticking to her mouth. The blanket slipped.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Obviously undeterred by nudity, the dog hopped up onto the bed, and Kate plopped her head over his furry belly. “Fuckin’ Spring Break.”

Both yawned.

“Well?” she lifted her perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Comin’ or goin’ Hawkeye?”

The question gave him only a moments pause, and than he shrugged with a ‘why-the-hell-not’ face, “Sleepin’ Hawkeye.”

Clint dropped like a sack of rocks onto the bed, making the two occupants bounce.

“You dick-,” Kate hit him with a lumpy pillow and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hair was in knots over his scarred chest. “I have nightquil if ya need it.”

“Na,” he could already feel his mind fogging over with sleep. “Good night Katie.”

“Night night, Clinty.”

Lucky rolled over onto their legs, both feeling the sweat starting to form. 

It was a perfect nights rest.


End file.
